


We're setting fire to our insides for fun

by MamaWouldBeSoProud



Category: Hockey RPF
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, F/M, Friends to Lovers, Gay Sex, Homophobic Language, Internalized Homophobia, M/M, Seriously though so much angst, Sexual Confusion, Slow Build, Slow Burn, gay slur
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-18
Updated: 2017-04-18
Packaged: 2018-10-20 14:50:53
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,531
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10664931
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MamaWouldBeSoProud/pseuds/MamaWouldBeSoProud
Summary: Auston just wants... He has no idea what he wants. But there's something missing and he is getting frantic in his quest to find out what “it” actually is.





	We're setting fire to our insides for fun

**Author's Note:**

> After writing a lot of very (!) fluffy stories about my favorite guys in blue jerseys, I accidentally stumbled over some "puck bunny" (god, how I hate that term...) blogs and found out that dear old Auston is apparently a bit of a slut (no shame in that). So I took that little fact nugget and made it into the angstiest thing you'll ever read, probably.
> 
> If you are one of the people mentioned in the story - please don't continue. Just save yourself and get out while you still can. Also - I am deeply sorry.
> 
> I tried to stay true to the timeline. At some point I mention a neat little trick to get an elevator to stop in between floors. I made this up. I know fuck shit about elevator mechanics, so please don't try this at home. 
> 
> Title taken from the song "Youth" by Daughter. If you really want to jerk out some tears, you should listen to that while you read this. 
> 
> Alright. Proceed.

„You can have any girl in Toronto,“ is probably a sentence Auston Matthews has heard more times than he has heard his own name. It's something his teammates say after a particularly good game, with a pat on the back on their way to the showers. It's something girls he has hooked up with once say accusingly, when he stops texting them. It's something that other players say in awe, when he meets them at the All Star Games or during charity events. “You can have any girl. Any girl at all.”

Auston knows he can have any girl. Because he has had a lot of them. He is 19 years old, he's decent looking and he is The Number One Draft Pick. Also, he's single. So, yeah, sue him – he likes to have fun with an endless array of gorgeous blond women. Nothing wrong with it.

He tries to be nice-ish about it though. Tries to give the girl a good time as well, tries to be kind and polite, but sometimes these chicks are infuriating and he knows they will go home with him, even if he is a dick. They all want to be the one that finally locks him down, all want to be the newest addition to the collection of scorching hot supermodels that is the Leafs WAGs.

He can see it in their eyes when they meet up or when they find him (he has no motherfucking idea _how_ exactly...) on Snapchat and send him nudes. So he usually goes for the strategy that Tkachuk endearingly calls the “fuck and chuck” and tries not to think about what his mom would have to say about it. Currently he has 37 blocked contacts in his phone, all from girls who had the nerve to continue texting him after he banged their brains out. He's guessing that he's officially what the internet might call a “fuckboy”.

The thing is – he isn't happy about it. It's not like he wants a girlfriend – he has had those before and it wasn't the answer. He just wants... He has no idea what he wants. But there's something missing and he is getting frantic in his quest to find out what “ _it_ ” actually is. So he chats up some more blond, oddly faceless girls on Instagram and does the walk of shame at least once or twice a week.

He texts Tkachuk every time he is getting some. They rate their hook ups and laugh about it. He “forgets” to call his mom regularly now, because he's sure she will telepathically know about his antics. Something is missing. If he could only figure out what _it_ is. If he could only figure out the answer.

\--

For a while he thought that hockey was maybe the answer, because he is used to hockey being the answer to almost every question in his life. So he played like he was possessed. Now he's playing in the best league in the world and he scored four goals in his first ever game and he is breaking records left and right and they are almost certainly on their way to the playoffs. And there's still something missing. He looks for the answer on Instagram and Tinder.

Although he looks grumpy most of the time, Auston has never had any problems making friends. He's usually quiet and laid back, but he seeks out those who aren't. Like Mitch, who has easily become his best friend in a matter of weeks. Mitch, who sings on the bench, who likes to cuddle his teammates and who buys a really expensive hat just to create some sort of in-joke with him when they walk into the rink, looking like the fucking Blues Brothers. They hang out and play COD, they go for milkshakes in the middle of the night and they piss around on Snapchat. If he could only change one little thing about Mitch, he would wish for him to be single. Because going out and hooking up would be way more fun with his best buddy around.

\--

It's another faceless puck bunny he wakes up to on their off day. He usually doesn't stay the night because his dad gets worried, but his dad is back home in Arizona over the weekend and Auston has been exhausted all week. While he is blearily trying to fully wake up, he realizes that the girl next to him is already awake. And she is smiling sweetly at him with that look in her eyes he so _so_ hates. The “I'm the one who will make you see the light” look. Then he realizes, that he has no motherfucking idea what her name is and immediately feels like shit. It's one thing to bang a chick and then leave, it's another to be downright disrespectful. So he forces himself to smile back and watches the look in her eyes become even more pronounced.

“You have a good time last night?” he eventually asks – because he has to say something at some point. In his mind he's already trying to figure out what part of town they are in. He needs to get an Uber. And then he needs to take a very long and hot shower. “The best” the girl says and starts stroking the inside of his arm. His dick stirs into action. He swallows and lets out a breath. Well, morning sex doesn't sound so bad actually. And she is a solid seven and a half on his chick rating scale, so... He grins as she leans in and her nipple strokes his bicep.

“Condom only” is a rule firmly implanted in his head by his mother. And Auston does a lot of things his mom wouldn't approve of, but he always made sure to follow this particular rule. No need to scream in agony while pissing if he can help it. So after the girl – he still draws blank concerning her name – has blown him fully hard, he suits up. She is straddling him and then slowly sinks down on his dick. He groans and lets his head hit the pillow again. She goes for a slow but steady rhythm and Auston is absolutely into it. Grabbing her thighs, he lets her bounce on top of him and tries not to come too fast, even though she makes those really sexy breathing sounds.

She leans forward, kissing him softly and her boobs sway enticingly back and forth while he keeps fucking her. “Glad to know you're into me, even though I'm not Mitchy,” she says with a grin before kissing him again. He kisses her back before- “ _What_?” His hips snap to a halt. His question has come out way more sharply than he intended and he is frowning at her. “What the fuck did you just say?” he asks again. She grins and keeps grinding back and forth – which is pretty distracting to be honest. “Oh come on,” she says with a giggle. “It's okay. I ship you two.”

Auston can't remember ever interrupting a round of sex for _anything_. Once he was sharing a room with Brownie and Browns walked in on him fucking a girl from behind. He didn't pause for one second, just pulled an “I'm sorry, man” face at Brownie who luckily got the hint and left. Auston bought him dinner when they were back home, just to say sorry.

But now he is pushing the girl that is currently riding him off and gets up. She looks a bit confused but is still smiling. “What's wrong?” she actually has the fucking audacity to ask. “What's _wrong_?” he snarls back. “The fuck is wrong with you? You think I'm gay for Mitch? Spent too much time on tumblr, did ya?” He pulls the condom off and grabs his boxer briefs from the floor. Great, he managed to pick up one of the crazies that try to make his friendship into a forbidden-secret-love-fest on the internet. Great. Just great.

“No” he hesitantly says from the bed and it sounds like a question. “Actually I don't even have a tumblr account.” He snorts. As _if_. He has found his pants and put them on, now he only needs to find his fucking shirt and get the hell out of here. He looks around the room. “I just meant because of what you said last night in your sleep.” Auston freezes. His breath suddenly feels very shaky. There is a buzzing in his ears and a weird coppery taste on his tongue. What is this chick talking about? Is she actually legitimately insane?

He turns around to face her and she is just sitting on the bed, completely naked and with crossed legs. He can see her dripping wet pussy and the slight hickeys he left on the inside of her breasts. His dick is still hard but he pushes any sexy thoughts to the back of his head now. You don't stick it in crazy. First rule of hooking up.

“What did I say last night?” he asks in a dangerously low voice. This chick is insane. She must be. But he still wants to hear her answer. He needs to know what she's on about. She bites her lip, looking a bit scared. “I dunno,” she mumbles. “Maybe I misheard or something.” The look is gone from her eyes now, the smile wiped from her face. She just looks dejected and a bit frightened of him. Auston would care, but he's in a state of mild panic and has no idea why.

“What. Did. I. Say.” he repeats slowly. She swallows and looks down to her hands. “I thought you were talking to me, but you must have been asleep. Or half asleep. But you kept saying 'Mitch' and 'Mitchy' and then 'You're the answer' or something like that. I dunno, maybe I-” she breaks off and looks back up at him. Auston can feel the color has drained out of his face. His skin is tingling. “Maybe I imagined it,” she offers with a shaky smile.

\--

The shower hasn't helped much and neither did that burger he guiltily ordered from his favorite take-out place. He has stuffed the container deep into the trash can, because he doesn't want his did to see it when he comes home in a few days. “You're the answer,” he thinks for the thousandth time that day and fights back the bile that has risen in his throat. “You're the answer.” He groans and gets himself a beer. Since he's already had a burger, this seems like the logical next step to take right now.

After he hoofed it from that chick's place this morning he has been in a weird sort of panic. He has walked the hour and a half back to his place, too out of it to call an Uber. He hasn't replied to Tkachuk's texts and certainly hasn't replied to any messages from Mitch. Instead he has taken a shower for longer than usual and tried to concentrate on anything for longer than five seconds. Nothing worked. Especially since he can't seem to bring himself to touch his phone. He would love to hurl it out of the window, actually. Or at least delete Snapchat and Instagram and every number in it. “You're the answer.”

It wasn't that chick telling him that set him into fight or flight mode. It was the fact that he remembered – actually fucking _remembered_ – the dream he had. The dream in which he was standing on a very long escalator going up and Mitch standing next to him, grinning like he always does. He remembered how he thought that this escalator would take for-fucking-ever and Mitch bumping his shoulder into him and saying “Don't worry man. I'm here. It's gonna be fun.” He remembered grinning back fondly and taking Mitch's hand. And then he said “Mitchy. Mitch, I think- You're the answer!”

The first beer doesn't help much, but the second one does. And the third one is just to make sure he can actually sleep later. The fourth one is the evil one. The one that makes him type “Dreams that mean you're gay” into Google and read through all the shit that comes up. He's still clicking through it when there's a really loud knock on his front door. Auston shuts his laptop so quickly, he almost looses a finger. He doesn't want to answer. Doesn't want to talk to anyone right now. So he just sits at his kitchen counter holding his breath and hoping that whoever it is will leave.

“Aus, you dickwad! Open up, I have donuts,” comes Mitch's unmistakable voice. He jumps slightly and his barstool makes a scraping noise against the tiled floor. It's a loud noise. It's loud enough for Mitchy to hear. He has to open the door now.

“ _Finally_ ” Mitch says with his trademark grin when Auston at long last makes it to his front door. Mitch pushes in and hands Auston a huge box of donuts. “I thought COD and donuts and beer,” he says while he walks to the kitchen. His eyes linger on the three empty bottles on the counter and the fourth half empty one and he cocks an eyebrow. “I see we're already half way there,” he snickers and then – because it's Mitch – continues in a sing-songy voice “Wooa, living on a prayer.” Auston makes himself bark out a laugh. He wants to throw up.

He still sucks at video games but at least he can concentrate on something else than this weird ass vibe between him and Mitch. Nothing has changed, really. At least nothing between them. It's just his fucked up mind that makes it difficult to breathe next to his best friend right now. His fucked up brain that feeds him fucked up dreams. He's not gay. He's not gay for _anyone_ – especially not Mitch. He likes pussy. Likes to stick it into blindingly sexy chicks and then leave and find the next one. He has never even watched gay porn. He can get it up pretty easily for any chick that looks halfway hot. He's a guy. A straight, normal guy.

Mitch pauses the game after an hour. “Alright, you're being weird. I mean, weirder than usual.” He grins. “You're like Dylan-Strome-level-weird. So what's wrong?” Auston keeps his eyes fixed on the screen. “Nothing. Just tired.” Mitch gives him side eye. “Dude. Come the fuck _on_.” Auston can feel his gaze on the side of his face. He needs to calm down. He's not gay. He is not. So who cares about a fucking dream. It doesn't mean anything. It was just his mind doing weird stuff. And he is not gay, so he doesn't have to behave like a weirdo with his best friend. He lets out a long breath. “I had a weird hook up last night and it kinda fucked with my head,” he finally says.

Mitch grins at him and waggles his eyebrows. “Yeah? Find someone who is into even kinkier shit than you are? Or-” he pauses in mock surprise and grabs his own chest “Did you – catch _feelings_?” Auston hits him with a pillow. “Shut up,” he snarls but he has to grin against his own will. “Definitely not _that_. And I'm not into anything too kinky.” Mitch is giggling now. He is giggling a lot, now that Auston comes to think of it. Because Mitch is doing a lot of stuff that other guys would deem “girly”. Like cuddling everything in sight. And giggling. And singing Taylor Swift songs in the locker room. And sending around Snapchat videos of him with a lot of puppies. That sorta thing.

“So, what did the girl do?” Mitch asks a while later, when they have resumed their game. Mitch never says “chick” or “puck bunny”. He buys his girlfriend a lot of flowers. He's one of the good guys, Auston thinks, and he is- Well, he's not crazy about himself right now, let's just leave it at that. “Nothing, really,” he shrugs and takes another sip of his beer. “Maybe it's just about time that I dial back on the flood of booty,” he adds after a few seconds. Mitch beams at him. “Oooh,” he says. “I could set you up with some of my girlfriend's friends and we could double date!” He has paused the game again and shifted sideways to look at Auston. He is clearly excited. “Nah,” Auston says. “Not really into getting myself a girlfriend or anything. I get bored easily.” Mitch rolls his eyes. “You're the worst. Being in a relationship is awesome!” Auston huffs and restarts the game.

“Really!” Mitch says with fervor. “You are with someone you like and who makes you laugh and you get laid on the regular and you can cuddle a lot and-” “I already get laid on the regular,” Auston interrupts him. “And if I want to hang with someone I like, I hang with you guys. Also I don't like to cuddle.” Mitch shoves him. “That because you're weird, dude,” he says. “Cuddling is the best. I cuddle everyone all the time and look at me – I'm a happy man!” He spreads his arms wide and puffs out his ridiculously slim chest. Auston chuckles. “And _I'm_ the weird one, yeah?” He shakes his head.

“You actually don't cuddle me,” he says a minute later. He is apparently a moron. But this just occurred to him. Mitch never jumps him like he does the other guys in the locker room. Never hangs on his arm or ruffles his hair. All they do is exchange bro hugs or fist bumps or sit tightly next to each other on the bench. “Well, I respect people's privacy,” Mitch says with a shrug. But then he pauses the goddamn game _again_ and faces Auston with a shit-eating grin.

“Matthews,” he says with a wink, “Are you – _jealous_? Would you like me to cuddle you too some time?” He's on his knees now, facing Auston like he is about to jump him and tickle him or something and it's too much. It's too fucking much after this fucked up night and the dream and everything and Auston can't say anything. He just stares at Mitch, blush creeping into his face. Mitch doesn't notice the awkwardness though, he just laughs and squeaks “Hah! Bulls eye!” before hug-tackling Auston into the cushions.

And now Auston snaps back into reality and knows his role. He knows he has to laugh and shout “Get off me, you fucking freak” and tickle Mitch until he squirms. He knows he has to place his hands on the body parts of Mitch that are not sexual in any way and knows how to keep his eyes from where Mitch's shirt has ridden up, exposing his belly button. It's fun, it's normal, it's bro stuff and not gay. _So_ not gay. “You're the answer” is locked up firmly in the back of his mind.

\--

He really does dial back on the flood of chicks during the next couple of weeks. They're on their way to a playoff spot and he has to focus all of his energy on hockey. He rarely opens up Instagram anymore and he has deleted Tinder from his phone. Twenty notifications that he got a Super Like every day were a bit much after all. So he stops going out and hitting bars. He stops chatting to random chicks. He just stops. He still sends Tkachuk made up texts about hookups though. He doesn't want the guy to ask questions.

And then Mitch gets dumped. Straight up dumped, as he phrases it one afternoon when he barges into Auston's place and flops down on the couch with red and puffy eyes. Auston busies himself with getting beer, because looking at his friend crying is a bit much. Why the hell does he have to actually fucking cry? Not even about a hockey thing. _That_ he could halfway respect. But about a chick? Auston doesn't get it.

He still tries to be sympathetic, patting Mitch on the shoulder and bringing him beer. Saying stuff like “Bitches be crazy” and “Come on dude, at least we can go out to pick up together,” to cheer him up. But Mitch being Mitch just shakes his head and wipes away some tears. “Nah, I don't wanna pick up. I don't want any other girl. No girl is as pretty as she is anyways.” And well – what do you say to _that_ , Auston wonders as he pats Mitch on the back some more and texts Mo for backup.

Mo decides that all of them going out is the best solution to the problem, so they hit their favorite Irish Pub that night. Even the guys with wives and girlfriends leave their women at home, all just to cheer Mitch up. Because everyone loves Mitchy, Auston thinks as he sips on his beer and looks around the bar. There's a band on the stage and they are playing cover songs – mostly rock and country numbers which Auston hates. But Mitch is almost back to his normal self, flitting around between groups of guys, jumping on Marty's back and squealing in delight when Bozie ruffles his hair and brings him in for a rib-crushing hug.

“Fancy meeting _you_ here,” a tentative voice comes from his left and when he turns to face the girl who spoke, he almost has a coronary. It's the crazy chick from that night. Of course it is. Because that's just his luck. She looks a bit skittish though, like he is about to cross-check her into the boards or something. She actually flinches a little when he puts his beer bottle on the bar with a thunk, because his head has started to spin. He flinches too, because granted, he has been shitty to this chick, but he would never hit a woman. His mama raised him right.

“Are you scared of me?” he blurts out. She grins slightly. “Yeah, actually. Kind of.” “Why?” he asks. She blinks nervously and looks down. “That morning, when-” “Yeah, I know what morning,” he interrupts her sharply. No need to rehash that. She looks up again and meets his eyes with a tentative look. “Well, you looked like you were about ready to beat me up,” she says. He swallows hard.

“I would never hit you,” he croaks out. God, does she really think he is that much of a dick? “Yeah?” she asks with a slight smile. “That's good. Because I couldn't stop thinking about you and that we maybe had something spec-” “I wouldn't hit you because I would never hit a woman,” he interrupts her with a frown. “Not because I think you're the love of my life or something.” Her smile disappears. “Sorry if I was unclear about that,” he adds a bit more kindly. “But I don't do relationships. I just hook up.” She blinks at him again. “Sorry,” he says again and then makes his way over to the guys.

It's fun at first when the band realizes who is in attendance and begins to play “Living on a prayer”. Mitch is piss-blind-drunk and screeching along and then pulls Auston to the front of the stage. It's hilarious and stupid and he doesn't think too much about it, because he has had five beers himself and anyway, it's impossible to not go along with Mitch when he's enthusiastic about something. They will get the living shit chirped out of them in the locker room the next day, but he doesn't care.

It's all fun, until he has his arm wrapped around Mitch, who is pressed into his side heavily and his hair is tickling Auston in the face and he smiles fondly down at his crazy little friend. It's all fun until he looks up and he sees the chick from earlier look at them wistfully and give him a slight smile, like she knows some big fucking secret about them. Because she doesn't get that hockey friendships are tighter than normal friendships. Because she's not a bro. Because she's just a crazy bitch he had the misfortune of fucking. He untangles himself from Mitch, latches him onto Kadri's neck and gets the hell out of there. “You're the answer,” is playing on a loop in his head.

\--

He's already in bed when he gets a text from Mitch. “U still up?” it says. Auston answers and then his phone buzzes two seconds later in his hands. “CannIshleepatyourplaceee” comes a very gurgled voice through the speaker. Auston groans. “Mitch, where are you?” He hears a hiccup. “Infronnayadoor.” The line goes dead. Auston gets up with another groan and thanks his lucky stars that this is another week his dad is back in Arizona. Mitch knows this, so that's probably why he wants to sleep it off here instead of his own place, which he shares with his mom most of the time.

It's a good thing that he has such quick reflexes, Auston thinks when he opens his front door and Mitch all but tumbles into his arms. He is wasted but at least he is not crying, so Auston counts that as an improvement. “Youssoo shtrong!” Mitch mumbles and then basically passes out right there. Auston carries him to his own bed and places a waste basket next to it, in case Mitch has to throw up. He would much rather have him on the couch, but he's scared that Mitch will turn around in his sleep and then throw up while he's lying on his back. People die that way. And Babs would kill him if Mitch kicked it on his watch.

\--

Incidentally, it's not a throwing up Mitchell that wakes him the next morning but a sneeze right into his face. Mitch has apparently snuck up on him last night and his head is on Auston's chest, Auston's arm wrapped around him and their legs tangled together. And now a very bleary Mitch has sneezed right into his fucking face. _Great_. Auston curses and shoves him off, while wiping his face on the sheets. “That's the last fucking time you sleep over,” he grumbles. “Sorry 'bout that,” Mitch snickers and then scoots after Auston to cuddle up again.

“The fuck are you doing?” he snarls and tries to detach from Mitch's grip. “I said I hate cuddling.” “Yes, but I'm hungover and you could be nice,” Mitch mumbles in between his shoulder blades. His grip is surprisingly strong for someone this tiny. It's so strong, Auston feels like he's about to suffocate.

“You are so fucking _gay_ ,” he hisses and tries to get out of Mitch's arms. Mitch stills and his grip goes slack, so Auston uses that exact moment to wrench himself free. “And you're a homophobe,” Mitch says quietly, all the humor gone from his voice. Auston turns around to look at him. Mitch doesn't look hurt, just like he has realized something truly disappointing about his friend. “I'm not,” Auston shoots back lamely. “I just don't like cuddles.” Mitch frowns – which is a weird look you don't see on his face a lot – and shakes his head a little. “Nah, it's cool man. Just never took you for one,” he says and scoots back to his side of the bed.

“I'm not a fucking homophobe,” Auston says with a little more heat. Mitch rubs his face with a hand and shrugs. Auston reaches out and grabs his wrist to pull the hand away. He wants to force Mitch to look at him. It works. “I'm _not_ ,” he repeats. Mitch shrugs again. “Whatever man. You do you.” Auston can actually feel the anger rise in his chest. Why is this making him so fucking angry? Why does he even care? He feels like the incredible Hulk right now. He wouldn't be surprised if he started sprouting green fur. He yanks at Mitch's wrist a little too hard and Mitch almost scoots back into him. “Hey, stop shrugging me off,” he bellows.

Mitch is glaring at him now. “Would you chill the fuck out?” he snarls back and snatches away his wrist from Auston's grip. But Auston has no way of stopping this insane fury inside of him. No time to actually think about why he is so furious. No time at all. So he lunges forward and pins both of Mitch's wrists to the mattress, hovering over him. “Would a fucking homophobe do _this_?” he shouts and then he smashes his mouth down on Mitch's mouth and kisses him.

The fact that he doesn't hate to kiss another dude is not even the biggest surprise, if Auston really thinks about it. It's the fact that Mitch kisses him back that catches him off-guard. The fact that his straight best friend seems to be really into it and pushes his tongue into Auston's mouth the first chance he gets. It's the fact that they don't stop kissing, that Auston moves on top of Mitch and that when they grind against each other their dicks are both hard. That's what really messes with his mind. That they don't stop after he has made his point. That they instead start pulling away items of clothing until they are both completely naked.

They don't come up for air once. Because any second that they are not doing this is a second during which they could think about their actions. And that would mean that Auston would have to shoot himself in the face, probably. So they don't think. They just do. They kiss and grab and it's not romantic or tender, it's just plain old fucking. _That_ Auston knows. Even if it's another dick he has in his hand, even if it's a dude going down on him and sucking him until he screams incoherent things. Even if it's his best friend who blindly and with one hand fumbles for lube and a condom in Auston's bedside drawer and then proceeds to ease one, two, three fingers into Auston's ass.

He sobs when Mitch finds his prostate and pushes down on it, hides his face in the crook of his arm and whines because he wants this so much. He has never ever wanted anything this much. Fuck the Stanley Cup. Fuck _everything_. “Fuck me,” he groans before Mitch finally – blessedly – rolls on a condom and then pushes in. And it's a pain he hasn't yet felt before, something in the middle between a burn and feeling like being ripped apart but it also feels weirdly, unbelievably good.

He's hard again, even though he just came. Mitch almost bends him in half and then slams in one last time before shuddering and shivering with a groan that makes every hair on Auston's body stand up. Auston sobs again when Mitch's slack hand finds his dick and with two almost lazy strokes he comes another time, his cum hitting his chin and his eyes going to the back of his head.

\--

They haven't talked in almost two days now. After the- well, _after_ , Auston had gone to his shower without a word. And he had made sure to stay in there long enough for Mitch to get the fucking hint and get the fuck out of his place. Which he had done. And now – they don't talk. Or even look at each other. They just play hockey and work out and hang with other people and the guys on the team are too concentrated on the playoffs to even notice. Auston hasn't slept in over 48 hours.

He still doesn't think he's gay. Not even bi. He doesn't sneak looks at other dudes, never has even thought about it. He is surrounded by guys and he is 19 years old. He surely would have noticed by now if he were into dick. Which he isn't. At all. He flinches whenever someone touches him.

It was probably just stress release. He has heard about guys on other teams who sometimes fuck around with each other on the road to let off steam. It's rumors – granted, but they are there. So he figures maybe it was just that. He hadn't gotten laid in over three weeks after all, and Mitch had just been dumped and was probably still drunk when it happened, so... Not gay.

I mean, _even if_ he decided to occasionally like dick. Still wouldn't mean he would be, like, in love with another guy. So if there's sex but no feelings, that wouldn't be gay. It would only be like a work out but with orgasms. He types "gay porn" into Google. He clicks on a few links. He makes sure his bedroom door is locked and his headphones safely in place before he clicks play. It's about 45 seconds later when he closes the page and shuts his laptop. It's not for him. He's almost ecstatic with joy about this.

It happens again, is the thing. After Kappy gets called up and they flatten the Panthers, they all go out to celebrate. And Auston is apparently into self destruction mode because he nods when Mitch asks him if he wants to share an Uber at the end of the night. It's the first time they have spoken in several days. Mitch gives the driver his address and then turns to Auston, who has his baseball cap pulled low into his face. “Mom's back at home this week,” he says. “I have the place on my own.”

This time it's Auston who's doing the fucking and Mitch gasping for air when Auston hits his prostate right. It's not gay if he's the one sticking it in, right? Still manly. Still just his dick in a tight hole. And he really goes for it, aggressive and rough and he doesn't have to worry about hurting Mitch, because Mitch is freakishly strong and can handle it. So he just hammers away and only comes up for air when Mitch is whispering his name into his ear and pulling his hair and then they are kissing, _kissing_ because kissing doesn't have to mean that there are feelings. It just means that touching tongues is awesome.

They fall asleep like they are dead afterwards. And when he wakes up the next morning, Mitch has tangled himself in Auston's limbs like a mighty kraken. He lies very still. The longer he can pretend to himself that he is basically still asleep, the longer he can stay here. When he finally wakes up for real, he untangles himself before scrambling into his clothes and getting the fuck out. Anything else would be gay.

\--

He opts for a hangout with Kappy and Will during their next off day. Mitch hasn't texted him anyways. It's been more than five days. They play a few games on their PS4 and order pizza – low fat, because playoffs. It takes about an hour for Will to casually ask him where Mitch is. “Dunno,” he shrugs and concentrates on the game on the screen. “You guys okay?” Will asks. “For sure. Why wouldn't we be?” Auston answers. His throat is a bit dry and he reaches for his drink. Will shrugs and then does something fancy with his controller, so things are happing on the screen that Auston has no idea how to do himself. “Dunno. Just thought there was a weird vibe between you two. Like something happened or something.” Auston doesn't answer.

When Will gets up to take a piss, Kappy pauses the game. Auston pulls out his phone to check his messages. He has started to dm a few chicks from Instagram again. Just to make sure. Just to be safe. “So,” Kappy says offhandedly. “What happened?” Auston looks up. Kappy just looks at him, waiting for something. Auston frowns. “Nothing fucking happened, would you stop it?” Kappy doesn't look away. “You guys hook up or something?” he asks instead and Auston can actually feel the fucking floor tilting beneath his feet. He opens his mouth but nothing comes out. He needs to laugh at Kappy, needs to say something like “Are you concussed, you moron?” and then they can chuckle about this insane suggestion and move on.

He doesn't laugh though. He can't laugh. There is no air in his lungs to laugh. And Kappy keeps on looking at him, and Auston doesn't know what to do. Kappy nods slowly. “Alright. So now you're freaking out.” Auston still doesn't say anything. But he manages to close his mouth. His hands are shaking, he will surely drop his phone in a few seconds and he doesn't have insurance for that. Why didn't he buy the insurance package? A cracked screen is a bitch. “Does it help if I tell you that there is no reason to freak out?” Kappy asks softly.

He needs to get out of here. He can hear the toilet flushing and soon Will will be back and then two people will know about this. Well, two more, not counting himself and Mitch. He stands up on very unsteady legs. “I need to go,” he croaks out. Kappy gets up from his chair as well. “Aus,” he says softly and puts a hand on his shoulder. “It's really really okay. Being bi or gay is not-” “I'm not _gay_ ,” Auston blurts out, horrified. “Oh my god, Kappy, I'm neither bi nor gay!” Kappy pulls his hand back but stands his ground. “What if you were though?” he replies and that's it. That's the last fucking straw.

“Why can't nobody accept the fucking fact that I'm not gay,” Auston bellows. The steps he heard in the hallway have stopped. Will must be coming back from the bathroom and he needs to get going. Kappy is still not reacting. “I'm not some cocksucking _fag_ , taking it up the ass while wearing lipstick or something!” Auston spits out before he turns around and pockets his phone. Where the hell is his jacket? He wants to leave. To be gone. Out of here. “But I am,” Will says quietly and steps into the room. Auston can feel the ground tilt for the second time that day.

“Well,” Will grins slightly, “Apart from the lipstick thing. I'm more of an eyeliner sort of guy.” Auston just stares at him. Will looks back. Not scared but taxing. Like he is waiting for Auston to react to that. Like there is _any_ way he could properly address this. “So maybe,” Kappy's voice comes from behind, “this would be the right moment to apologize to your teammate for using a gay slur.” Auston blinks but Will turns to Kappy and smiles. “It's alright, he was just-” “It's _not_ alright,” Kappy interrupts him. Auston can see him cross his arms in the corner of his eye.

“Babe,” Will says placatingly and Auston sorta snaps out of his catatonic state and whirls around to Kappy. Kappy is just standing there with his crossed arms and raises his chin slightly when Auston looks at him. Challenging. And Auston is reeling, breathing hard while a collage of images pops up in his head. Kappy and Will on the bus sleeping next to each other. Kappy and Will hugging excitedly when Kappy got sent up. Kappy and Will having their arms around each other during parties. He never thought- Hockey friendships! They are closer than normal friendships. It's just bro stuff. Like him and Mitch. Well, him and Mitch before the fucking.

“Are-” he finally manages to say. “Are you guys-” “In love?” Will offers. Auston's eyes bulge a little. “You're in _love_?” he presses out, horror sneaking up his spine. Oh my god. _Love_. Like proper gay love. Not just letting off steam by fucking each other senseless. They are gay. Like _gay_ gay. All the times they all had showers together, all the times they slapped each other's butts or wrestled in the locker room. “Yeah we are,” Kappy says and comes around the couch to stand next to Will. He puts his arm around Will's shoulders. “And if you have a problem with that, you'd better be going,” he adds.

“Nah,” Will says with another slight smile. “He's too busy going through every time we saw his wang right now.” Auston blinks and Will winks at him. He fucking winks. “Stop it,” Auston grinds out. Will is still smiling. “Don't worry dude, you're not my type,” he adds and slinks his left arm around Kappy's waist. “Plus, I'm in a loving and committed relationship and all.” He smiles even more when Kappy squeezes his shoulder. They all fall silent.

“You _can't_ be gay,” Auston says at last. There is a pleading tone to his voice when he says it. Kappy is glaring at him. “We are. Well, Will is. I like chicks too. But either way.” He shrugs. “We like dick.” Auston swallows. How the fuck has he not noticed this? He knows these guys! They tell each other everything! Or so he thought.

“So, you and Mitch,” Will starts again and Auston shakes his head so hard he feels dizzy. “No. Not- It's not like that. We only- Only twice and only to let off steam. Not like-” he waves his hand at Kappy and Will. “Not like gay feelings and shit.” Kappy raises his chin again. Auston clenches his hands into fists. He wants out of here. 

“What if it was though?” Will asks. Auston shakes his head again. “No, it's not-” “But what if it was?” Will interrupts. And the pressure on Auston's head spikes. It's like a fucking vice around his temples. “IT'S NOT!” he yells. “It's just not!” Will doesn't even flinch. He just looks at Auston with his stupid open face and says “But what if it was?”

“Then I couldn't be a hockey player!” Auston screams with a sudden burst of rage. “I couldn't be a fucking hockey player in the fucking NHL and a fucking top scorer on a team like this! Not if I was a fag! A cocksucking _fag_!” he shouts and his voice actually gives out on the last syllables. He can hear a sound like a sob coming out of his throat and he can feel a burning in his eyes and then he doesn't really remember anything anymore, besides his own hands coming up to shield his face from everything and a pair of strong arms hugging him. He grabs on, because the ground is tilting, tilting and there is a sharp pain in his throat. And then everything goes dark.

\--

They don't talk much when Will drives him back to his place the next morning. He has spent the night on their couch, staring up at the ceiling and trying to press down the panic bubbling in his stomach. His eyes feel very red and puffy and he was grateful when Kappy simply handed him a pair of sunglasses and said “Give them back whenever,” before they left.

Will is humming along to some weird European pop song and Auston tries to concentrate on not throwing up. He has felt like hurling his guts out for a few days in a row now. When they finally make it to his place, he has undone his seat belt and grabbed the door handle before Will has even put the car in park. “Hang on a second,” Will says. Auston could ignore it. Will hasn't even raised his voice or anything. He just always sounds friendly and chipper, like nothing can bring him down. A bit like Mitch. “You're the answer,” Auston's brain unhelpfully supplies and the urge to vomit becomes stronger.

“Look,” Will says when Auston finally turns to him. “I'm being nice to you, because I didn't handle it all that well either when _I_ realized shit a couple of years ago.” Auston looks from the steering wheel to Will's face. Not quite meeting his eyes, but almost. “I hurt a lot of people when I finally figured stuff out, but I guess I was lucky because at least I wasn't 'The Chosen One'” - Will makes quotation marks with his fingers - “in a town like Toronto.” Auston nods. He just wants this to be over. He doesn't need a big gay lecture about how great it is to have a Brokeback-Mountain-themed-relationship or some “If you can play, you can play” bullshit.

“Thing is,” Will continues, “you are pretty much scared of nothing here. Yes, it's exhausting to hide your relationship. Yes, it's annoying that you have to hide it at all. Yes, the media would probably eat you alive if you are the first one to publicly come out. But you know what? It doesn't change _anything_ about who you are. You'll still be the same, even if you acknowledge who you really are. Just happier, probably.” He turns quiet and Auston clears his throat. He needs to tell Will that he got it all wrong. It's alright if Will is into Kappy, but he's- he's just not like that. He's not gay. He's not.

But Will holds up a finger. “One more thing,” he says. “You said last night that you couldn't be a hockey player in the NHL if you were gay. Well, if you have a look on the stupid scoring sheet, you'll see my name right below yours. So fuck that!” The last part he says with an actual fucking giggle and the sound is weirdly unfitting for a situation this horrible.

Will stretches out a hand, places it on Auston's left arm and he flinches. Will rolls his eyes a little. “Still not into you, Matthews. Unclench.” Shame hits Auston. _Fuck_. He really is a homophobe. He's the worst. “You might be straight as a ruler, but I somehow doubt it,” Will plows on in his irritatingly kind tone. “You might be bi or gay or exclusively into Mitch's tiny wiener, but whatever it is – you need to start being okay with it.” “Mitch- It's not-” Auston starts before biting his own tongue. Fuck. Will grins like the Cheshire cat. “Not tiny? Yeah, I know, just wanted to tease ya,” and there is a weird sort of feeling in the corners of Auston's mouth. Like he wants to smile. He doesn't though.

When he gets out of the car he turns around. “Thanks,” he says quietly to Will. And maybe that is way too little to say after all of this but he feels that Willy understands anyways. “Any time,” he replies. Auston slams the door shut but Will slides down the window almost immediately. “Oh, one more thing,” he adds casually. “If you ever call me or especially my boyfriend any names ever again, I will personally beat the crap out of you. Just for the record.” He puts the car into drive and Auston is left alone in the parking lot by his house.

\--

“Come over,” is all that Auston texts Mitch after checking that his dad is out for the day. “B there in 20” is Mitch's reply. 20 minutes is 1200 seconds and Auston basically counts them as he paces through his apartment like a caged animal. The urge to vomit is overwhelming. He even kneels down in front of the toilet bowl and gags, but apart from a little spit nothing comes out. He opens a beer, takes a sip and then pours the rest into the sink. He should probably be sober for this.

When Mitch finally arrives, he lets himself in and then they stand in front of each other in Auston's untidy kitchen. There is a lot of space between them. Auston grips the edge of the kitchen counter for support. “We should talk,” he presses out and Mitch just nods. He's not as cheery or bubbly as he usually is. He just leans against the wall by the door and crosses his arms. Auston swallows a few times. “We- The- What happened. It can't happen again,” he finally manages. “I'm not gay, Mitch. I'm really not. Gay porn does _nothing_ for me. And I can't- I don't love you or anything. I mean-” He's babbling. He can't stop. He looks at the ceiling. “I mean, I love you like a friend but I don't want to be your boyfriend or anything. I just-” He stops. Silence.

“ _Wow_ ,” Mitch finally says and it's barely louder than a whisper. Auston looks over to him. There is a lot going on in Mitch's face. Most of it doesn't look too good, if Auston is being honest. “First of all,” Mitch says, “I never thought you were gay. I'm bi but I try not to put people into categories.” The simplicity with which Mitch just states this outrageous fact makes Auston's mind draw blanks again. Why is this so fucking easy for everybody? What is _wrong_ with him for fuck's sake?

“Second of all,” Mitch continues, “the gay porn thing – well, I'm not even gonna touch that.” He snorts a little derisively. “Doesn't really do it for me either, but that doesn't mean I'm not into guys.” More blanks. Auston blinks a few times. “Third of all, thanks for the heads up, but when you fucked me that second time and then just bailed, I kinda figured you didn't want to adopt Chinese babies with me any time soon. So don't you worry, I'm not pining after you or anything.” There is clear disgust on his face now and Auston feels like the biggest shit to ever walk the face of the earth.

There's a question lurking in the very far back of Auston's mind and like the perfect breakaway on the ice it now skates forward and comes out of his mouth before he can stop it. “Did you ever do- Did you ever have- before?” he asks. Mitch raises his eyebrows. “Have sex with another man?” Auston nods. Mitch uncrosses his arms. “Yes, actually. An old teammate of mine. He was gay, so we hooked up regularly. In the end, I wanted something more and he didn't, so we broke it off.” So another hockey player, Auston dimly thinks. “Who-” “Not gonna tell you,” Mitch cuts him off before turning to the door to leave.

“ _Wait_ ,” Auston says. Again the pleading tone. He needs to get a fucking grip. Mitch turns back to him. “Anything else?” he asks. “Who knows about- well, you?” He needs Mitch to stay a bit longer. Because he can't drop dead from confusion as long as somebody else is here. He can't handle nobody else being here right now. Mitch looks at him and sighs. “My parents. Some close friends. Most of the guys on the team-” _Most_ of the guys on the team. _Most_ of them. And nobody said a word to Auston. Nobody. He doesn't reply anything and it's after a few minutes that Mitch shrugs and leaves. The closing door sounds like a gun shot.

\--

_He's on the same escalator again. When he looks down, he can barely make out the dark little platform from where he started. When he looks up, he can't see anything besides moving steel steps. It's going to be hours before this thing gets him anywhere. “Hey,” a voice behind him says and when he turns around, Mitch is standing right there. With his stupid Bluejays baseball cap and his stupid stupid grin. “Why are you looking so grumpy?” Mitch asks and goes to stand next to him. “We're stuck on this fucking thing,” Auston replies. Mitch looks up the moving stairs and nods slowly. “Yeah, it looks like this could take a while.” But then he practically beams back at Auston. “But you know, I'm here now! So this is going to be fun!”_

_Auston smiles. “What about standing on an escalator with a moron like you is fun?” he asks back. Mitch laughs his giggly laugh. “We'll figure something out, okay? You and me!” and he threads his fingers in between Auston's. Auston looks down at their hands. “Yeah, okay,” he says. He looks up again. “Mitch?” Mitch smiles at him. “What?” “Are you the answer?” Auston asks tentatively. Mitch scoots closer. “Dunno. I could be. But you need to sack up to find out, I guess.” And then he leans in and his soft lips scrape along Auston's cheek._

The kiss never follows though, because something hits Auston in the solar plexus and he wakes up. He's on the plane and Brownie hovers over him. “Dude,” Browns hisses. “You might not want to moan and sigh when you sleep in public places.” He looks around the mostly sleeping other players. “You'll get chirped till next Christmas.” Auston is still trying to catch his breath. Brownie waves his hand at Auston's crotch. “And cover that up you old horn dog. _Cheesh_ ,” he adds before slinking into his own row of seats again. Auston just looks down at his boner, clearly visible through his dress pants. “Sack up,” he murmurs. “Sack up to find out.”

\--

Turns out, sacking up is really hard to do. Harder than a bag skate. Harder than scoring the game winning goal for his team. _Those_ things he can do. Sacking up – not so much. They have single rooms on this roadie and Auston uses the solitude for research. He needs to do this thoroughly. First, he invites a random Insta chick to his room. He has DMed her for a while and when he sends her a dick pic and a question mark, she asks for his room number. It's that easy.

They fuck for what feels like a few hours. And when they are done, he feels calm and sated. It's normal. He can still do it. She takes a selfie with him in bed, his bare sweaty chest visible on the lower corner of the picture. “What's that for?” he asks. “My blog,” she replies and he asks her to leave. When she's in the bathroom to clean up, he deletes the picture from her phone.

The second night of the roadie, he tries the gay porn again. The door to his room is carefully locked and his Beats are stuck very firmly on his head. No sound is going to come out. He clicks a bit more vigorously through the videos on display this time. There is a lot of spitroasting and rimming and gang bang scenarios that give him the heebie jeebies. But then he finds a video of some Ryan Gosling type getting sucked off by a guy with a shaved head. The dude on his knees makes happy little humming noises that remind Auston vaguely of Mitch and he can feel his dick harden in his sweat pants. He palms it and clicks on another video.

When he jerks off in the shower later, he imagines Mitch on his knees in front of him. Imagines carding his fingers through the dark blond hair on Mitch's head and Mitch's lips stretched obscenely around his cock. It doesn't take long for him to shoot his load with a muffled shout. That night, sleep doesn't come as easy.

\--

They have made it to the playoffs. They _really_ did it. Auston can't remember ever being so happy, so ecstatic so not-giving-any-fucks. He hugs every single one of his teammates in the locker room. Even Mitch. And Mitch hugs him back before jumping on Marty's back and screaming some nonsense about Marty being his little bitch-pony now.

Auston walks over to Kappy and taps him on the shoulder. Kappy turns and grins. “Sick goal, man,” Auston says and grabs Kappy's shirt to bring him in for a hug. Kappy beams at him. “Thanks, bro. It's-” he makes a helpless hand gesture and Auston nods. He gets it. “Yeah,” he says and smiles back.

It's almost natural that he ends up in the elevator with Mitch. Alone. And Mitch babbles on happily about playoffs and how much of a beard he will probably not sprout and what the odds of winning against the Caps might actually be. “Wanna come over to my place?” Auston interrupts him at some point and Mitch goes still and looks at him with a blinking question mark on his forehead. “My parents are staying in a hotel downtown,” Auston adds. “We could-” He hesitates and then shrugs. “Dunno, we could play COD or order a pizza or something.” Mitch smiles a little. “Sounds good,” he says.

There is this thing in the movies where you can make an elevator stop in between floors. When Auston was 14 years old, he tried it with a few teammates. And he found out that it actually works if you press the stop-button and the doors-closed-button at the same time. It's quite simple, really. And so that's what he does now, before turning around and grabbing Mitch by the shoulder. Mitch looks half scared, half annoyed but when Auston presses his mouth onto his, he softens a bit. Auston moves his lips, slides his tongue into Mitch's mouth and sucks in Mitch's lower lip with an obscene wet noise. The hint of a breathy moan comes out of Mitch. Auston pushes him into the wall, brackets him in with his arms and proceeds. _“Are you the answer?” “I could be if you sack up.”_

\--

There is a difference between “fucking” and “making love” and Auston is trying to figure out what it is, because he needs to get this right. Mitch isn't exactly helping. He's as enthusiastic about anything concerning sex as he is with anything hockey related, so in other words: _very_ enthusiastic. And Auston likes it, he does, it's just that he needs to make sure that Mitch gets what's happening here. That Auston is trying. Trying to sack up. Trying to be okay with everything. _“Are you the answer?”_

He takes his time kissing Mitch, draws it out and touches and tastes Mitch everywhere, before licking his way down to Mitch's leaking dick and taking him deep. Mitch grabs his hair and pulls and Auston tries to imitate the happy little humming noises he heard in that gay porn video. Mitch is into it, if the sounds he is making right now are any indication. Auston grabs the lube and the condoms from his dresser and throws them at Mitch. “You should fuck me,” he says. His voice is _almost_ steady.

Mitch looks pleasantly surprised. “You sure?” he asks. “Yes,” Auston replies. He needs to know. If he likes it up the ass, he likes it up the ass. Doesn't make him any less of a man. Doesn't make him weak. Doesn't make him into another person. He'll still be himself. Just happier. And so he lies back and tries to control his breathing while Mitch gently opens him up with his fingers, while kissing the insides of his thighs.

He rolls on the condom and almost squirts half the bottle of lube on his dick. Auston chuckles. “Don't waste the lube, man,” he says. “That stuff is expensive.” Mitch looks down at him. “I want to make it good for you,” he says earnestly and _this_ \- It's the death punch! The thing that makes everything inside of Auston flip. He pulls Mitch down into an almost chaste kiss, noses rubbing against each other. When Mitch finally enters him, Auston moans into his mouth.

\--

He doesn't sleep a wink that night. Just lies there until Mitch's breathing is evening out next to him and Mitch finally, half-asleep crawls up next to him. Like a skinny, human-sized cat. When he is sure that Mitch is completely asleep, Auston pulls him closer. Their breathing is synching up. Their heartbeats steady, half a second apart. The cars on the street throw streams of light through the windows and onto the ceiling. The low hum of the city outside is a calm backdrop for the noise in Auston's head. What if it were like this every night? What if he had this – _Mitch_ – every night? The thought scares the crap out of him, but deep down, beneath all the roaring is a tiny beacon of light. It warms Auston up.

When Mitch wakes up the next morning, Auston slowly and tenderly strokes a thumb down his cheekbone. “Morning,” he whispers and even though Mitch tries to hide it, Auston can still make out the quick flicker of confusion in his eyes. “You alright?” Mitch asks him through a little yawn. “Yup,” he replies and makes the p-sound pop. “Pretty damn alright.” He leans down to kiss Mitch. Fuck morning breath. They've both smelled worse around each other.

\--

They decide to get breakfast at one of their favorite spots in King West. It's busy this morning and they have to wait almost half an hour to get a table. Mitch – who is clearly hungry, fidgets around a lot and gives comical death stares to various people taking their sweat-ass-time with their breakfasts. “Come _ooooon_ ,” he groans under his breath and Auston chuckles a little. “What's so funny?” Mitch asks with a scrunched up nose. Auston smiles at him. “Nothing. It's just that this could take a little while longer.” Mitch sighs. “But you know,” Auston continues, “I'm here now. So this is going to be fun.” Mitch pulls up an eyebrow. “You're weird today,” he finally says.

When they get a table at last, they both order the biggest breakfast option on the menu. They made the playoffs, they get to indulge a little today. Mitch starts scrolling through his phone when the waiter leaves their table. “Anything good planned for today?” he casually asks Auston without looking up. “Yeah,” he replies softly. “I thought I'd spend the day with you.” Mitch's head snaps up. “You know, if- if that's alright,” Auston adds hastily. Mitch blinks a few times. “Um. Yeah. It's very alright actually.”

Auston smiles at him and hooks his ankle around Mitch's under the table. “Mitch,” he starts and then has to stop talking because the waiter is back with their coffee. When they are alone again, Auston clears his throat. “Look. What I said the other day, about- about me not being- well. It's-” He looks up a little helplessly. Mitch just stares at him with a completely unreadable expression. It's not annoyed, not angry, more like hopeful? Or is that just Auston's stupid imagination?

“I think you're the answer,” he blurts out before grabbing his mug, sloshing a little coffee on the table and then proceeding to burn the roof of his mouth with the scalding hot brew. His eyes are watering and he sets the cup down again with shaky fingers. Mitch's eyebrows are basically one scrunched up line now. “Um. Alright. Walk me through it, buddy,” he finally says and leans forward, his elbows on the table. “I'm the answer? To _what_ exactly?” Auston breathes in. He makes himself look into Mitch's eyes with a steady gaze. “To everything, basically,” he says.

“Okay.” Mitch looks a little stumped. “Is that- like, is that you telling me that you are in love with me?” Auston personally thinks that passing out right about now sounds like a great idea. But he keeps looking Mitch in the eye. “Yeah. Yeah, I think so.” Mitch leans back. “Huh,” he says. And Auston thinks that there is a whole fucking lot Mitch could say, but for the first time ever, he is annoyingly quiet.

The waiter comes back with their food. There is bacon and scrambled eggs and buttered toast, but Auston does not fall face first onto his plate like his grumbling stomach suggests. Instead he sits there and wait. For Mitch. To say something. Anything. “Could you say something?” he asks after a few minutes. “If you want to tell me to fuck off, that's fine but then just do it and then we can eat and never talk about this ev-” “Shut up,” Mitch says. Auston flinches and looks down. He unhooks his ankle from Mitch's.

“ _Aus_ ,” comes Mitch's voice from across the table. It's very soft and very quiet and Auston looks up because he can't not look up now. There's a fucking smile on Mitch's face and it's not teasing or mocking or hateful. It's as soft as Mitch's voice. As soft as Mitch himself. “You are, without a doubt the most complicated fucking _idiot_ I have ever met,” Mitch says. The right corner of Auston's mouth goes up on its own accord.

“And so far, you have basically taken a shit on my fragile little heart every fucking day for the past few weeks.” Auston's mouth becomes a thin line again. Mitch swallows and looks down at his hands. “I've been in love with you forever, I guess. And I never thought- well. You seemed almost offensively straight.” Auston feels like crap, because he actually loves hearing this. That he seems straight. Like it's a good thing. It's not. “And then that first morning- I- You seemed to _hate_ that you liked it. You seemed like you hated _me_. And the second time as well.” There are definitely tears in Mitch's eyes now. He hopes Mitch doesn't start crying right here, where everyone can see them. God, that's the last thing they need right now.

“You ever wonder why there was a second time at all?” Mitch asks. “Or why I came to your place at the drop of a fucking hat, when you wanted to talk? Or why I went home with you last night?” His voice is a little louder now and Auston winces slightly at the thought of someone overhearing their conversation. He shakes his head. He hasn't thought about it. He was too caught up in the shit show inside his own head. Mitch leans forward again. “Because I am crazy about you. Up to the point where I did stuff that I hated myself for the next morning.” Mitch sighs.

And it's maybe at that point that Auston actually gets what is happening right now. He is in love with Mitch and he had the balls to tell him. And Mitch – weirdly, _wonderfully_ – is in love with him too! And now they both said it. And now Auston can make it up to Mitch. Can make up for his shitty behavior these past weeks. He slowly starts to smile and Mitch smiles back. “So, you're the answer,” Auston says more to himself. Mitch hooks his feet around Auston's ankles and sighs again. “Since you are one big unsolvable question, it's maybe a good fit if I am,” he says with a grin. “Now eat your breakfast. The bacon is getting cold.”

\--

What do you bring your teammates when you want to say “Sorry” and also “Thank you” and also “I might be actually fucking happy for the first time in my entire life and you had a big part in this”? It's a tough question, so in the end Auston settles for a six-pack of beer and a box of donuts. His hand shakes a little when he knocks on Will's and Kappy's door, but when he lets it fall down again, Mitch is there to hold it. Auston squeezes his fingers slightly. Mitch squeezes back.

Kappy's face when he sees their entwined fingers is fucking priceless. Will's whooping holler when he sees is enough to make Auston regret everything and get the hell out of there though. But Mitch is right next to him, his fingers between his own, and Mitch giggles and says “Don't spook him, he's like a shy badger.” So Auston easily laughs along with Kappy and Will and puts his arm around Mitch's shoulders. Just to test it out. Mitch grins up at him toothily and Auston leans down for a kiss. Just to test it out. He decides that he likes it.

“Anyways,” Auston says a while later, when they are all hanging on the couch and playing video games. “I wanted to apologize. For- um. You know-” He doesn't know how to proceed. “His big gay freak out,” Mitch chimes in cheerily. Auston shoves him a little. “You're not helping.” “Was I supposed to?” Mitch asks back. Auston huffs out a laugh. “God, you're a dick sometimes,” he says fondly. Mitch grins at him. “You're into it,” he replies and cuddles up. Auston's arm wraps itself around Mitch on its own accord. He looks up at Kappy and Will and smiles. They beam at him in return. “Yeah, man,” Kappy answers. “We get it.”

\--

Auston has an idea what he wants now. There is nothing missing anymore. His frantic quest for the answer has come to an end. So when Mitch scores the first playoff goal against the Caps, Auston is jumping and shouting before everyone else. And it's his hand that finds its way into Mitch's hand on the bus back to their hotel after the game. Mo is looking and Kadri sees as well. And Auston doesn't give a flying fuck. _Mitch is his answer._ That's all that matters.


End file.
